Vignette 6: Words of Warning
by Loafer
Summary: Another in my vignette series. Lassiter and O'Hara have a heated conversation many months after he polygraphed himself to warn Shawn not to hurt her. Set while Marlowe's still in prison and before Juliet & Shawn move in together. Got to thinking "what if…?" and here ya go.


**Disclaimer** : Dis claimer, dat claimer, whatever claimer, just for fun, not mine, blah-de-blah.  
 **Rating** : T  
 **Summary** : Another in my vignette series. Lassiter and O'Hara have a heated conversation many months after he polygraphed himself to warn Shawn not to hurt her. Set while Marlowe's still in prison, and before Juliet and Shawn move in together. Got to thinking "what if…?" and here ya go.

 **. . . . .**

 **. . . .**

 **. . .**

"I wish you would sit down."

Shawn leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets. He was deliberately blank of expression, because he knew—without knowing what she had brought him there to say—it wasn't going to be a 'fun' conversation.

"Shawn, please."

He huffed and started for the sofa—and that's when the pounding came at the front door.

This was followed immediately by Carlton's unmistakable—and unmistakably _angry_ —voice. "O'Hara! Open up!"

Juliet hurried to pull the door open, heart already racing. "Carlton! What's wrong?"

His blue eyes were alight with both a deep freeze and the heat of pissed-off-ness. He swept his gaze past her and spotted Shawn, who'd only gotten as far as clutching a pillow from the sofa.

To Juliet, he said shortly, "We have to talk." To Shawn, he said, "You have to leave."

"What? No I don't."

"Carlton," she repeated, "what's wrong?"

"Out, Spencer. I need to talk to O'Hara."

"Not my problem, Lassie-face. Or should I say about-to-blow-up face."

Juliet shushed him. "Just tell me—"

"We have to talk now, or we won't be talking again," Carlton said flatly.

The timbre of his voice—or perhaps the coldness in his eyes—gave her goosebumps.

"Um, Shawn, you should go." She didn't even look in his direction, her attention fixed on Carlton.

"But Jules, you dragged me over here because you said _we_ had to talk. So I get dibs, sweetie, it's that simple."

"Shawn." Juliet faced him now. "Clearly Carlton has something serious on his mind, so I'm asking you to leave. I will call you later to reschedule our talk."

Spencer tossed the pillow down, sullen. "Fine. Just fine. I had to bribe Gus not to un-pause the Tivo and now that free churro coupon is wasted."

Carlton held the door open wide, most likely biting back snarkery about what constituted bribery in Shawn's world, and slammed it after he was gone.

Juliet said, "Okay, whatever this is about, I already know you need to calm down."

He stared at her, not saying anything at first. Steeling himself. She could feel it.

"Yes. I do need to calm down." Icy.

She was starting to feel increasingly nervous, and a little zappy thing in her head whispered _you know why he's here and for damn sure you know what this is about_.

He stood closer and towered over her, pinning her in place with those steely blue eyes. "Why did you do it? Why in _the hell_ did you do it?"

Juliet whispered—and this avoidance was a lie because she _knew_ what he meant, "Why did I do what?"

"Dammit," he snapped. "You went to see Marlowe and you warned her off of me."

"What? I did not! I—"

Carlton cut her off. "Don't lie to me. You went to see her and you—"

She cut _him_ off. "I am not lying to you! I did go see her, but—"

"O'Hara," he ground out. "She _said_ you warned her about me."

"I did not! I only told her not to hurt you!" She pushed her hair behind her ears. "If it sounded like a warning, it was. But it wasn't a warning to stay _away_ from you. Just to treat you right."

He was silent for a moment, the light in his eyes shifting. "That's not what she said."

Juliet snapped, "Well I don't care what _she_ said. You've known me a lot longer and I would not lie to you about something like this."

His breathing was fast, unsettled, but he _had_ to know she was being honest.

"Why did you go at all?" His tone was back to icy.

She braced herself. "Why did you threaten Shawn?"

Carlton turned away immediately, hand in his hair, hiding for exactly as long as he needed to get his expression blank. She knew him.

And she _had_ him.

He stared at her now, jaw tight. "He told you that?"

"He didn't have to."

"What the hell's that mean? You're a fake psychic now too?"

Oh, that acid could burn. "Carlton, stop snarking at me. He didn't have to tell me because I saw it myself."

Again, the expression in his eyes shifted, as he calculated what this meant.

Juliet backed away from him, over to the edge of the sofa. She leaned against its arm because her legs felt oddly weak—it had been so long, and it was so rare to begin with, since she'd been the target of his anger.

Drawing in a breath, she began, "You approached him and asked for a word. But after everything that happened… and knowing Shawn would probably never tell me the truth and you were still pretty pissed off at us, I figured I had to check it out for myself."

Carlton was still watching her, trying to read ahead the words she hadn't even decided to say yet.

"I saw you polygraph yourself, and I heard what you said. You got his attention. At least that day." Regret… annoyance… bitterness… each welled up in turn and she forced them back. "So you tell me, Carlton. You tell me why you did that, and you won't _need_ to ask me why I went to see Marlowe."

He exhaled sharply and turned, pacing for a moment and then finally settling on the chair a few feet away. Rubbing his face briskly, he eventually fixed her again with that crystal blue gaze.

"She said you warned her about—" He trailed off, jaw clenched.

"About what? How did I warn her? What did she actually say, Carlton? Because all I said to _her_ was that she'd better take care not to hurt you. That you were important to me and I had your back, and I would always have your back, and anyone who tried to bring you down would have to deal with me."

A flicker of … appreciation? … in the blue. "She said we were too close."

Juliet felt goosebumps. "How so? We're partners. Partners are close."

 _You're pretty damned close. And when you thought he wanted a_ new _partner, you were gobsmacked._

But he changed tack. "What made you go _now_? She's six months from getting out. Six months, if she stays out of solitary between now and then. I bought a damn _condo_. Why'd you have to kill it now?"

"I didn't kill it!" she protested. "I wasn't _trying_ to kill it. What do you mean, anyway?"

 _Did you not want to kill it, at least a_ little _bit? Juliet? Hmmm?_

"She ended it."

Juliet stared at him in horror.

The horror was multi-faceted… but she had no time to analyze those facets.

"Carlton, no. That can't be right. Why would she do that?"

He swallowed, and bit out, "What. The. Hell. Did. You. Say."

What the hell _had_ she said?

On her feet again, arms crossed tight, Juliet tried to hold herself together while racking her brain. "No. No. You tell me what _she_ said. Because nothing _I_ said should have made her end it with you. Nothing."

"Have I pissed you off lately? Because my little talk with Spencer was months ago; kind of a long time for _you_ to hold a grudge."

"A grudge? Why would I hold a grudge? I was… I was… _honored_ that you spoke up for me. It was a really sweet thing you did, and I…" She paused, trying to keep her voice even while meeting his intent gaze, and she was still floundering somehow. "Not that you followed through on it."

In the next second, she knew her own eyes had gone as wide as his, because she'd never meant to say that, at all, in any form.

" _What_?" The dark brows were a slash of disbelief. "The hell?"

Juliet squeezed herself harder. "You heard me."

"Yeah, I heard you, but what the hell do you mean?"

For a few seconds they stared at each other fiercely.

Juliet couldn't stonewall on this. She'd laid it out there, so she had to stay the course.

"You said that if he hurt me in any way—"

"I know what I said. I'd say it again. I'd do it again." He got up, advancing toward her, but she couldn't back away. "What do you mean I didn't follow through?"

"He hurt me all the time!" she burst out. "From forcing my father into my life to just… being… the way he is! He hurt me all the time and you didn't stop it!"

Carlton towered over her, eyes ablaze, and she met and returned that glare—although hers was misty. His hands closed into fists, and then relaxed again, and she could see him visibly settling himself down.

"You shut me out. _All the time_ ," he echoed. "You shut me out."

He wasn't entirely wrong. He wasn't. But he wasn't entirely right.

"What could I do about your father? You were handling it yourself. I had to trail along two steps behind, seeing you were unhappy and knowing Spencer was doing it to you, but it's not like you gave me any liberty to haul off and toss either him _or_ Frank into a cell. You didn't talk to me about that at all and I was there every day, O'Hara. Every day. What else ya got?"

She brushed a traitorous tear from her cheek. "I wasn't keeping score."

"No? Seems like you might have been. And every time I was the least bit critical of your… _man_ , you gave me the stinkeye. As a cop I can go wherever the hell I want with probable cause, but into your personal life when you put up a 'do not enter' sign? Yeah. Tell me how _that_ was supposed to work."

He turned back to the chair, running his hands through his black and silver hair, all his tension back.

And he _wasn't_ entirely wrong.

Maybe he wasn't wrong at _all_. Maybe staying out of her personal life was how he had tried best to remain her friend and partner after she'd concealed from him that she was dating Shawn to begin with.

Juliet felt shaky—rather, acknowledged how shaky she'd been since his arrival—and settled down onto the sofa slowly.

Across from her, Carlton also sat, his lean face again an expressionless mask.

Only the blue eyes gave away his turmoil.

"I…" She looked away, down at her hands. "I need someone to blame. I get tired of blaming myself, and it's no good blaming Shawn because he's like… vapor."

Carlton sighed. "So what is this about?"

"You... just now I was angry but I _do_ know you're there for me. I know you'd be there for me if I asked you. And I know I haven't always asked you. And I got to thinking about that promise you made to Shawn, and I got to thinking about how much you have invested in this relationship with Marlowe. I know she's not like him. She's in prison but she's not like him. But her life is really complicated, Carlton. It was complicated before she went in, it's complicated now, and it's going to stay complicated with her parole and her brother and all that and I just wanted her to know that if she's committing to you it has to be all the way and I won't let her hurt you. I won't. You can be mad about that if you want to but my intentions were good." She searched his face for any sign of understanding. "I don't want you hurt."

 _Even though he's hurt now and it's your fault._

He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair, seemingly weary.

"I didn't warn her _off_ you. I don't have any idea why she'd say that unless she was looking for an out."

One eye opened, then closed again. "She said you told her that if she wasn't in it all the way, to disappear before she even got to the parole board, or you'd _help_ her disappear."

Juliet took a little breath. "Well. I might have said that. But you threatened to _shoot_ Shawn."

The faintest and briefest of smiles curved his mouth, but disappeared quickly. "She said if you were comfortable making statements like that despite having Spencer for a boyfriend, then you and I were much too close and she wanted to know if she should be worried about us."

She felt both a chill and a wave of warmth.

"I said no. But she reminded me I'd told her about polygraphing myself to make my point to Spencer, and said she wasn't going to get in the middle of a partnership where both sides felt like it was okay to threaten significant others." He opened his eyes and looked directly at her. "And then she said goodbye."

Hauling himself up out of the chair before she could even react, he headed for the door.

Juliet jumped up and hurried after him, putting herself in his path. "Whoa, whoa, Carlton, wait! You can't—you have to talk to her again. Or I'll talk to her. This isn't right. It's not—I mean it's not—"

"It is, O'Hara. It's over. That's what it is." He was weary again. "Back to square one. At least for me. You're on your own with Spencer."

"No, stop." She put one hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat under her touch. "I'm on my own _without_ him. That's why I asked him over here today, to break it off. I'm just too tired to stay on the Shawn-go-round anymore."

Confusion, puzzlement, surprise—she could read all of that in her partner's lean face.

"A few minutes ago," she started again less urgently, "you asked me why I went to see her now. The answer is, I knew I was headed this direction with him. I knew if I'd ever listened to you or... okay, anyone else, let alone my own instincts, I'd never have gotten involved with him to begin with. And I thought about your threat to him, about all the times you stood up for me, and about how maybe it was time someone stood up for you. I really just wanted Marlowe to be careful with... with your heart."

The room was quiet, and his heartbeat under her hand was steadier now, if a bit faster. The blue of his eyes was so complex, so vivid. She couldn't have moved if she'd tried.

"Because it's a good heart, Carlton. Underappreciated, for sure. But it's good, and it's so much bigger than people think it is, and you deserve to be happy."

He sighed, almost as if letting go of some huge burden. "So do you," he said huskily.

She could feel his sincerity, and was way too misty again. "Well, it won't be with Shawn. But that doesn't mean you can't still make things right with Marlowe. I'll talk to her, okay?"

Carlton covered her hand with his. "No, don't."

She was surprised... and indecently relieved. "Why not?"

"Because the whole time she was talking to me, I kept getting the feeling she _was_ looking for an out. Maybe because her life _is_ complicated. Maybe you just gave her the excuse she needed." His fingers interlinked with hers, and he sighed. "Maybe we're all four of us really screwed up."

Juliet smiled. "You're probably right." He dropped his hand, and she patted his chest soothingly. "Are we done yelling at each other?"

"Yeah. And... not for nothing, but... I appreciate what you _tried_ to do." He scratched his chin reflectively. "I, uh, thought it was sweet of you to try. You know, before she dumped me and I got pissed off."

"Oh," she said, half-laughing, half-crying, and threw her arms around him for a massive hug. He hugged her back, warm and close, and for a few moments they just clung to each other, and it felt so right to be back on track.

Finally he set her away, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ears. "You know if you don't follow through and end it with Spencer, I'm never speaking to you again."

Willing away the unexpected shiver his gentle touch caused, she promised, "I will talk to him later today. I swear."

"And tomorrow, we're back to work."

"Yes. Single and screwed up."

"But... partners."

"And friends."

He gave her a wry smile, moving past her to the door again. "Who knows, O'Hara? Maybe in some other universe, _we're_ supposed to be together."

She was shocked he'd said it, and shocked at how much she liked the way it sounded. At how it made her feel.

Which, perhaps, wasn't really that shocking after all.

"Maybe," she managed with a smile. "But then again, maybe it's _this_ universe."

He met her gaze evenly, his blue searching hers for long, silent moments.

Then he let out a breath. "Yeah. We'll, uh, talk about that when you're single."

 _Yes we will_ , she thought as he closed the door behind him.

 _Yes, we will_.

 **. . . . .**

 **. . . .**

 **. . .**

 **E N D**


End file.
